Uncle Silas eBook

through this long and nearly dark passage, I was terrified
by a light, about thirty feet before me, emerging
from the ceiling. In spotted patches this light
fell through the door and sides of a stable lantern,
and showed me a ladder, down which, from an open skylight
I suppose for the cool night-air floated in my face,
came Dickon Hawkes notwithstanding his maimed condition,
with so much celerity as to leave me hardly a moment
for consideration.

He sat on the last round of the ladder, and tightened
the strap of his wooden leg.

At my left was a door-case open, but no door.
I entered; it was a short passage about six feet long,
leading perhaps to a backstair, but the door at the
end was locked.

I was forced to stand in this recess, then, which
afforded no shelter, while Pegtop stumped by with
his lantern in his hand. I fancy he had some
idea of listening to his master unperceived, for he
stopped close to my hiding-place, blew out the candle,
and pinched the long snuff with his horny finger and
thumb.

Having listened for a few seconds, he stumped stealthily
along the gallery which I had just traversed, and
turned the corner in the direction of the chamber
where the crime had just been committed, and the discovery
was impending. I could see him against the broad
window which in the daytime lighted this long passage,
and the moment he had passed the corner I resumed
my flight.

I descended a stair corresponding with that backstair,
as I am told, up which Madame had led me only the
night before. I tried the outer door. To
my wild surprise it was open. In a moment I was
upon the step, in the free air, and as instantaneously
was seized by the arm in the gripe of a man.

It was Tom Brice, who had already betrayed me, and
who was now, in surtout and hat, waiting to drive
the carriage with the guilty father and son from the
scene of their abhorred outrage.

CHAPTER LXV

IN THE OAK PARLOUR

So it was vain: I was trapped, and all was over.

I stood before him on the step, the white moon shining
on my face. I was trembling so that I wonder
I could stand, my helpless hands raised towards him,
and I looked up in his face. A long shuddering
moan—­’Oh—­oh—­oh!’
was all I uttered.

It was an uncouth speech. To me it was the voice
of an angel. With a burst of gratitude that sounded
in my own ears like a laugh, I thanked God for those
blessed words.

In a moment more he had placed me in the carriage,
and almost instantly we were in motion—­very
cautiously while crossing the court, until he had got
the wheels upon the grass, and then at a rapid pace,
improving his speed as the distance increased.
He drove along the side of the back-approach to the
house, keeping on the grass; so that our progress,
though swaying like that of a ship in a swell, was
very nearly as noiseless.